


Ain't Nothin' Personal

by eyemeohmy



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Gen, Headcanon, Mild Gore, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-11
Updated: 2014-07-11
Packaged: 2018-02-08 11:19:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1939029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyemeohmy/pseuds/eyemeohmy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's punishment, but to Starscream, it feels more like a game.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ain't Nothin' Personal

**Author's Note:**

> Old fic I cleaned up and decided to post. Using some of my headcanon for Lockdown here.
> 
> Fic inspired by and written to [art by Kad](http://vividambrosia.tumblr.com/post/19387979713/kaddson-for-reasons-unknown-drawing-broken).
> 
> Please tell me if I need to change the rating from M to E, and/or add any further warnings.

Starscream could credit his ability to tolerate massive dosages of pain to being in service with Megatron for so long.

Once you've had your ass handed to you by the Decepticon tyrant, you were liable to survive most anything else. And given all the beatings he'd gone through, Starscream might as well be a roach. Try as you might, bring out your armies and take your best shots, it was impossible to keep the Seeker down for too long.

Still, that wasn't to say Starscream was _immune_ to pain. Definitely not. Nor was he fearless of it. Starscream avoided injury as much as possible, even if most of the time this made him somewhat of a coward. Still, self-preservation wasn't a weird concept--sometimes it paid off to turn tail and run. Sometimes a fool was the one who continued fighting, and the wiser he who retreated.

Though now, _now_ \-- His pain receptors had helped him through the majority of the... examination. There was no fitting word to describe what exactly _this_ was. It wasn't a fight, it wasn't exactly an experiment. The word "punishment" had been thrown around, but Starscream wasn't so sure that was it, either.

It was... a game.

Yes, a game would most likely suit the situation best. And it was obvious Starscream lost. He did not go down without a fight, even if said "fighting" was hurling insults and threats and frustrated shrieks. Then the pain kicked in, and everything was a blur. A blur he was thankful for.

However, half-way through this game of sorts, Starscream's body began to shut down. His receptors were glitching. Every second they switched off, he could feel the tendrils of stabbing pain work their way through his circuitry. Before anything got too intense, the receptors flickered back to life. The time between each moment of pain and numbness began to dwindle--three minutes, two minutes, soon his pain receptors would either switch off completely or scramble and leave him completely open to the pain.

Starscream looked down at himself. He was simply a torso now, his bottom half having been meticulously ripped and cut away. Intestine-like cords and wires hung limp from the massive wound in his chest; however, his captor was smart. He knew what to cut and what to leave intact so Starscream would not bleed out.

At least, not _too_ much.

The energon smelled thick, puddled beneath him. One arm was missing; its removal had not been as neat as the rest of his torture. He didn't want to think about the state of his wings, or if they were even still _there_.

Starscream's anger subsided into fear and determination. He wasn't screaming or crying; not anymore. His vocalizer felt dry and ragged. No, right now, he had to focus on keeping himself alive. Although, he knew, that was also the intent of his captor. Still, the idea that if he were close to death, the bastard who dragged him there would only yank him back did not sit well with him. Not comforting in the least.

He'd live on his own terms, and so he'd die on them as well; and he was _not_ going to die.

"Y'know, I thought you'd be broken down an' blubbering for Primus's mercy by now."

The voice was cold and heckling, heavy like smoke wafting from the shadows. Starscream looked up, dim optics narrowed; he grit his teeth together, attempting to conceal any of his fear with disgust and hatred.

It wasn't very hard.

A pair of twin red optics stared back at him, and he could almost _hear_ that oily smile spread on those equally ugly faceplates.

Heavy, uneven footfalls, and the "Decepticon" (though he wore the symbol, he insisted he was not aligned with anyone--not truly) approached the Seeker. He stopped a foot from him, eye-level; Starscream might have been taller than the mech, but the fact he was missing his legs and pinned to the wall like a butterfly...

"Yer pretty tough, kid. Color me surprised."

Starscream glowered. "Let... me down." The curses and threats had been useless. Now it was cold, simple; he sounded more sincere now than he did while he was being taken apart piece by piece.

The mech grinned, showing a gap between the top ridge of denta. "Nah," he said. "I've been given instructions, remember? Don't worry. I told ya, I ain't gonna kill you." He raised an arm--in place of a hand, a terrible, curled sickle, its end blade-sharp and tainted with energon. He pat his hook gently in a patronizing manner against the side of Starscream's head. "So don't worry yer pretty, scared li'l processors about it."

"You..." Starscream breathed, and he could hear his body cycling the air in an unhealthy growl. "... Will let me down. N--"

Starscream finished with a pained gasp and _hnnk_ as the rod was slammed clean through his chest. A mere calculated _inch_ below his spark chamber. His only hand reached out, grabbed it tightly; pulled with all his remaining strength. He managed to loosen it, but only a couple inches.

Starscream's armor rattled; the dizziness during his torture returned, only stronger now, ten times worse. Nauseous and overwhelming. He shuttered his optics closed, teeth biting down until they were about to crack; had to focus, had to stay alive, pull, pull, come on, get it out, pull, _you can do it, for Primus sakes--!_

"That ought t'keep you busy fer the next few cycles," the mech sneered. He gently pushed on the rod, and Starscream choked on a small cry. "Good on you, though--yer glitchin' 'ceptors ought to go offline fer good in five kliks. So y'won't be feeling a minute bitta pain soon." He chortled. "But it ain't so much the pain that bothers you, right, Starscream? Yer body's half-way to the Well, but yer pride's already burning in the Pit."

Starscream frothed. "Lockdown..."

Lockdown smiled crookedly--the only way he could, in fact. "But know this ain't anything personal, kid," he said. "I'm just followin' orders." He nodded to the nearby viewscreen. "Yer lucky, in a way, that Airachnid was called out on duty an' I took her place. She's far worse than me." He mocked a proud sniff and wiped an invisible tear away with his hook. "Taught her everything she knows. I'm proud of my li'l femme."

"Spare me... familial... dramatics..." Starscream growled.

Lockdown snickered. "Guess I was wrong," he said. He shoved the rod in, harder, so it ground deeper into the wall, through the Seeker's innards. "Yer pride's still got a li'l venom t'spare."

**Author's Note:**

> (I like to pretend Airachnid and Lockdown are related i.e. "father" and "daughter".)


End file.
